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#The Arrangement
fangswbenefits · 7 months
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The Arrangement
Summary: You managed to convince Astarion not to go through with the rite of profane ascension. He remains a vampire spawn, and you now offer your blood from time to time to help with his sanguine hunger until a solution is found.
Even though you had both decided to stay as friends back in Moonrise Towers, lines begin to blur once more as other cravings come to the surface… and things with Astarion are seldom uncomplicated.
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Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Rating: Explicit/18+
Setting: Canon compliant. Post-endgame.
Warnings (will be added as the series progresses): Blood drinking. Pining. Biting. Sexual tension. Mentions of past abuse. Explicit smut.
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Chapter 1 - Bloodlust
Chapter 2 - In Between
Chapter 3 - Inconvenience
Chapter 4 - Solution
Chapter 5 - Confrontation
Chapter 6 - Broken
Chapter 7 - Tension
Chapter 8 - Revelations
Chapter 9 - The Arrangement
Chapter 10 - A New Way
Chapter 11 - First Light
Chapter 12 - In the Beginning
Chapter 13 - Tempest
Chapter 14 - Trance
Chapter 15 - Acquaintances
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Masterlist . AO3 (cross-posted there)
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chernozemm · 3 months
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A little piece on the Arrangement, temptation and sin.
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egooppidum · 4 months
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wip for "The Arrangement" by @oharahive
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(If you haven’t read it, then you should fix this mistake as soon as possible)
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ghostfire · 2 months
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@fangswbenefits Tav x Astarion from "The Arrangement" And the other version
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gurugirl · 9 months
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The Arrangement | "Like this, Daddy?"
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Based on reader requests - was unable to find the original request but I know a lot of y'all really wanted this one. Enjoy!
Summary: Harry wants to make a cute video of Y/n stripping for him but it quickly turns into a sex tape.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, sex tape stuff
The Arrangement Masterlist
“Want to make a little video of you. How’s that sound?” Harry said as Y/n looked down at the pretty lacy nighty set he’d just gifted her. She was used to him buying her things but this little gift with silk and lace and bows was super sexy and feminine and exactly something she’d love to have.
Looking up at him with rounded eyes she smiled, “Anything you want, Daddy. Is this for the video?” She asked as she lifted the lingerie upward.
Harry brushed his fingers over the material and nodded, “If you want. You’ll be the star so you can decide what you’d like to wear or not wear.”
Looking over the delicate fabric she nodded and bit her lip, “I’ll go change. I really like this. Think it’ll be really pretty for a video.”
It was stunning. When she slid it up her hips and tucked her breasts into the flimsy lace she looked at herself in the mirror and grinned. It really was lovely. She imagined that the lingerie was very expensive. Nothing she could ever afford. But of course, nothing Harry bought her was in her price range.
The moment she walked into the bedroom, dawning the sexy lacy set and a pair of sleek black heels, Harry already had his cellphone recording and the lights dimmed. He was sitting on a chair with his legs spread and watching her as she stepped in closer.
She’d never done anything like it before. Being recorded was nerve-wracking. She wasn’t sure how to act or what to do as she stopped and stood just feet from her lover.
“What should I do?” She asked shyly as she brushed her hands over her sides and looked down at herself.
“Show Daddy how you touch yourself, baby. Use that chair next to you if you want to sit or bend yourself over it. Show me what a good girl does for her daddy.”
Harry was already aching for her. He’d been gone at work all day and had missed her. The vintage lingerie set that he bought her last week finally came in that afternoon and seeing it hidden away in the box under his desk had him imagining what she might look like in it all day. But what he imagined hadn’t even been close to reality. The way it fit over her curves made it look like it’d been tailored for her. Her breasts were held in as the lace softly stretched over her skin and her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. Tiny bows on either hip that dangled silk over her smooth skin. She looked edible.
She smiled and rubbed her hands over her breasts first. She felt her soft tits under the fabric and pressed her nipples through the lace to get them hard as she watched Harry. Moving her hips a little she laughed in embarrassment at herself as she lowered her hands over her stomach and to her hips. She felt silly. She wasn’t a good dancer in any setting but trying to do some sort of strip dance while being recorded? In front of Harry?
Harry had a serious expression on his face though as he turned on a sexy song for her to dance to, “You’re doing so well, baby. Look at how pretty you are for Daddy. Like a little present with lace on top and little bows on your hips. Keep going, honey.”
The music gave her something to move to so she swayed her hips a little more as she continued feeling the fabric under her palms. She kept her eyes on Harry’s, wanting him to give her cues but he was silent as he watched her. She decided to lift her arms upward and spin. She spun slowly and kept her neck turned so she could see Harry and when she saw him lick his lips and his eyes drag down her frame to her hips and her waist she felt like that was a good sign.
She bent herself down, slowly pushing her bottom out and lowering her hands to her ankles before attempting to sensually pull herself upright again. Her rhythm had never been great but she was doing her best to move to the slow and sexy beat.
Placing her hands on the chair she arched her back and wiggled her tush a little as Harry’s expression turned a little darker. He looked like he was getting turned on and that really had her tummy bubbling with excitement.
“You’re a natural, Y/n. So fucking gorgeous for Daddy. Keep going, baby. I wanna see you get a little nasty.”
She knew her face was hot and her ears were on fire. Her nerves were peaking but she felt like he was enjoying what he was seeing based on the way he was looking at her. And if that didn’t give it away, the bulge at his crotch was a good indicator.
She put her pointer and middle finger in her mouth, using her tongue to swipe up and down her digits as she sat down in the chair across from Harry. Spreading her legs apart she watched as he angled his cell phone toward her and she pulled her wet fingers out of her mouth, “Like this, Daddy?” She lowered her left hand down between her thighs and pressed her wetted fingers over the thin material at her crotch. She continued rocking lightly to the music as she gazed into Harry’s eyes and bit her lip.
Harry watched as she toyed with herself over the fabric of her lingerie and he was nearly bursting from his pants. He loved how sweet and shy she acted but he knew she could be absolutely filthy if she wanted to, “Bring your other hand up and play with your tits too. They look like they need some attention.” He directed.
She was thankful he told her. She preferred to be given directions and now she at least knew for sure he wanted to see her play with her breasts.
Touching the fabric over her boobs she poked one finger under the lace and brushed over her nipple as she continued circling over the fabric at her crotch with her other hand.
Harry pressed over his erection as he watched his girl do her thing. She was adorable but he could tell she was finally getting worked up, “Don’t stop touching yourself until it’s all wet. Want you to show Daddy how wet you can get.”
Y/n let out a deep breath and nodded as she continued fingering over her nipples and rubbing the warm spot between her legs.
“Daddy, want to touch it. Under this. Can I?” She poked her finger along the inside edge of her panties close to her pussy.
“Yes, baby. Pull it to the side. Let’s have a look at Daddy’s sweet little cunt.”
She pulled at the material and pushed it to the side, exposing her pussy to Harry and his camera. Spreading her legs further she leaned back and swayed her neck as she rubbed herself, “It’s getting wet for you Daddy. Just like you like.” She lifted her fingers and puffed a small laugh, “See?”
Harry groaned and undid his pants to let his cock have a bit more space. He was going to lose it. Yes, she was adorable, but she was a vixen and she knew what she was doing.
When the material of her panties was all wet and her soft panting had her chest rising and falling she began to pull at the lace over her breasts and bring her tits out, “Want you to see how hard my nipples are.”
Harry leaned forward and examined her body as her breasts bounced free from the top of the night set, “Now that your pussy’s all messy, want to see you dance a little baby. Start taking off your lingerie one piece at a time.”
Y/n moaned as she removed her hand from her pussy and stood up with a grin. Harry’s hard cock and his parted lips and dark eyes told her what she needed to know. He loved what he saw and her confidence to keep going was spurred.
The top part of the lingerie was unhooked and pulled off as she moved with the music and then she turned around so her bottom was aimed at Harry as she bent and looked over her shoulder, “Watch this Daddy.”
Harry was watching all right. That was never going to be an issue. He’d kept his eyes on her body the entire time, “Oh baby. You’re such a sweet girl with your ass in the air for Daddy like that. Can you stick your fingers inside your wet hole for me? Want to see you finger yourself like this.”
She grasped onto the chair and pulled the fabric away from her crotch again. It was soaked through. She kept her head turned so she could watch Harry as she brought her hand around her bottom and spread her legs, pushing two fingers into her pussy for the camera, “Feels good, Daddy. Wish it was your fingers inside of me.” She panted her words.
She arched her back further as she continued thrusting her fingers and keeping her eyes on Harry. The angle was perfect. Her backside was bare to him, the fabric pushed over so he could see everything, wet and puffy with her fingers stuffed into herself. Her tits swayed as she rocked herself to the beat and her high heels made her look extra slutty.
“Now turn to face the camera again. Want to see your perfect breasts.”
She pulled her hand away and stood as she turned and gyrated her hips and squeezed her tits together, “You like it, Daddy? Is it a good video?”
Harry nodded, “Very good. How would you feel about me fucking you and recording it? I promise no one will ever see it but us.” He hadn’t intended on it, but now that he had started it he figured why the hell not?
She would say yes to anything he wanted. She never questioned his decisions, “I like that if you want it. Want you to fuck me, Daddy.”
Harry groaned and let out a laugh, “In due time. Pull the rest of that off, baby. Keep your heels on, though.”
Her hips moved slowly as she pushed her fingers into the band of her bottoms and began to pull them down her legs, still attempting to keep up with the beat.
Harry stood up and held the phone out so he could capture everything, “Let’s have a little smoke, and then I’m gonna set this up and fuck you. Keep dancing baby.”
Lighting up a joint after he propped his phone up to record Y/n as she danced he took a puff and then handed it to her.
Taking it between her fingers she drew in a breath of the cannabis and continued dancing slowly wearing only her high heels. One hand she used to run over her curves, feel over her breasts, and down to her tummy while she inhaled and then blew out the smoke from her lips.
Harry took the joint from her to let her get back into the little strip tease she began doing.
“My pretty girl. Who’s girl are you baby?”
Y/n looked at Harry and ran her hands upward and swung her hips, “I’m your girl, Daddy.”
His smile and the sultry gaze had Y/n feeling quite bold so she tilted her neck from side to side with the beat then pinched her boobs together, “Mmm… look, Daddy…” her moans were soft as she thumbed over her nipples and swayed, “So pretty for you. Am I pretty for you?”
Harry swallowed and nodded, “So pretty for Daddy, that’s right.” He sat down on the chair she was dancing next to as the camera kept recording, “Can you give me a lap dance? Want to see how filthy you can be.”
Wearing only her heels she looked at the camera and then climbed over his lap, facing him. Her drippy pussy was on display for the video as she gently moved her hips and Harry kept his hands on the arms of the chair.
She arched her back and sighed as she rolled her hips and tried to stay steady over him as well as she could.
“You can put your hands on my shoulders if you want. I’ll allow it.”
She quickly lowered her hands so she could stabilize herself as she rocked and swayed to the music, “Like it, Daddy? I’m a good girl for you aren’t I?”
Harry groped at her ass and pulled her down over him, her pussy pressed against the zipper of his pants, “My good girl. Does exactly what Daddy asks of her.”
She smiled and nodded as she rolled her hips over him. She knew she was wet but as she felt Harry’s zipper under her she gasped and looked down, “Oh no, Daddy. I’m getting your pants all wet.”
Harry was barely holding it together. He was ready to destroy her, “S’okay. Wouldn’t be the first time, would it? Can be washed. You’re just a dirty girl. Can’t help it when she’s messy.”
When she felt Harry pull her in closer she felt like her body was on fire. She knew he was going to be fucking her soon. His cock was hard and his eyes and irises were nearly fully covered by his pupils, “I’m so messy sometimes, Daddy,” she said as she began to climb off his lap and settle onto the floor between his legs. Turning around to look into the camera before looking back up at Harry she hesitantly put her hands up to his zipper, “Can I pull you out? Wanna suck on you so bad.” The camera had the perfect angle of her taking him into her mouth as Harry struggled to keep his mind clear. He wanted to give her a taste but he really wanted fuck her brains out.
She took him down her throat as Harry pushed his hands into her hair and made her gurgle over him a few times before he lifted her up and stood from his spot and bent her over the chair, “Daddy needs to feel this pussy right now. Needs to fuck his little girl before he goes crazy. You did so good for me, baby.”
Harry watched the camera as he pushed himself into her tight, wet hole. She gasped and clung onto the chair as he stuffed into her, “Yesss… Daddy…”
Moans and grunts and slow, long thrusts started the scene. His sweet girl was only wearing heels as he was nearly fully clothed, his cock the only thing exposed to the camera as he started to work into her at a faster pace.
He pressed her down by the back of her neck, her face into the seat cushion of the chair with her mouth wide open. She could barely make a peep once he began to thud into her harder. The sturdy chair moved under their weight as each heavy plunge was given to her.
Harry kept one hand at her bottom, pulling her soft skin so he could watch his cock disappear into her slippery pussy over and over again. The camera was picking up the scene from the side and Harry knew his cock could be seen entering her pussy at the angle it was in. It was perfect for his own private collection.
When he spanked her bottom quickly she groaned and gasped, the first noises from her throat since he’d been inside of her and he smiled, “There you are. Wondered where your voice went. Little girl needs spankings to get her to speak up? Hm?”
She was being rocked and jolted at each of his harsh thrusts and her clit was rubbing hard over the fabric of the arm of the chair and it felt divine. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head as she gurgled and tried to respond but her body was already sending her into an orgasm.
Harry coughed out a surprised laugh as he felt her clench and spasm over his cock and he closed his eyes as she came around him. It was the best feeling in the world to have Y/n’s pussy in orgasm while he was inside of her. There was nothing like it.
He landed another palm on her bottom as she began to come down and he pulled out, lifting her up gently. He wrapped his hands around her hair and pulled her back into his chest as he spoke into her ear, “On your knees for me little girl.”
Y/n clumsily got to her knees and turned to face Harry. She was a mess with drool on her face, palm prints on her backside, messy hair, and mascara down her cheeks. A gorgeous mess.
Harry grasped her hair into a makeshift ponytail and began to pump his cock in front of her face, “Open up wide and stick out that pretty tongue.”
She looked up at him in a daze as she opened her mouth and jutted her tongue out for him. She kept her hands behind her back, knowing that’s how he liked it. She only touched when he allowed her to.
The moment his warm, pink tip settled over her tongue she licked along the parts she could reach and moaned at the taste of his precome dripping. Harry continued stroking himself off, his slit in contact with her taste buds as he groaned at the sight, “My little fuck doll. Loves having Daddy’s cock in all her holes,” He pushed himself down into her throat in one swift motion and held her down on him as he continued, “Goddamn, baby. Always take it so well. So pretty when your mouth is stuffed and throat is gagging.”
He pulled back out as she gasped and kept her mouth wide open. She kept her eyes on his and slid her tongue out to reach for his pretty cock but with the way he was holding her hair she couldn’t move her head and Harry went back to stroking himself on her tongue.
He wanted to come inside of her pussy and show the camera the creampie and how cute she was dripping with him, but he also wanted to record himself coming on her face and her tits.
He felt his balls squeeze to his body as he moaned and felt his tummy swirl as his orgasm started to unfold.
Gonna cover you in my come, baby. Fuck, so pretty…” he pumped faster as his fingers tightened in her hair and he felt his legs quiver as he finally began to release.
The first pump of his come went into her mouth before he angled himself to spurt on her face and then her neck and to her tits. Harry’s groans and the sound of his palm stroking his cock, getting come all over his shaft as he poured himself all over her pretty skin was pornographic. He knew the video would be good for later. He’d have them watch it that night as he fucked her again before bed.
“Fuck, baby! God… ffffuuu…” his words were panted as he slowly came down and gently released her hair.
His chest heaved slightly as he caught his breath and grasped her chin, angling her face upward, “Time to lick Daddy’s cock clean, baby. Go on.”
Y/n got to it immediately, swiping her tongue over his shaft and down his balls and back upward, swallowing his come and her arousal, lapping at him like he was a lollipop.
“Mmmm…” she moaned as she looked up at him with her tongue roving over his skin.
“Yeah? Tastes good sweetheart? It’s cause your pussy was there too. Like how you taste don’t you?”
Y/n nodded as Harry backed away and tucked himself into his briefs. He bent down to his cute girl with his come all over her and swiped up a glob from her tits putting his fingers up to her mouth, “Taste.”
She happily opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his fingers, licking those clean as well. Harry sighed and grinned, “Daddy’s dirty girl.”
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year
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The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact that it didn’t really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize that they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other’s activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary.
It meant that Crowley had been allowed to develop Manchester, while Aziraphale had a free hand in the whole of Shropshire. Crowley took Glasgow, Aziraphale had Edinburgh (neither claimed any responsibility for Milton Keynes, [Note for Americans and other aliens: Milton Keynes is a new city approximately halfway between London and Birmingham. It was built to be modern, efficient, healthy, and, all in all, a pleasant place to live. Many Britons find this amusing.] but both reported it as a success).
And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It’d get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.
Aziraphale felt the occasional pang of guilt about this, but centuries of association with humanity was having the same effect on him as it was on Crowley, except in the other direction.
Besides, the Authorities didn’t seem to care much who did anything, so long as it got done.
- Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch
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ineffable-suffering · 5 months
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Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley", because I think I finally figured out the real meaning behind that line
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Naturally, this line of all lines, the most line of them all, is constantly circling around my rotten brain like a moth around a flame.
In addition, though, there's always been another Good Omen's line/exchange that has kept bothering me again lately. And literally until just about five minutes ago, I had never thought of relating them back to each other.
Now, five minutes later, I have and I think I just ... figured it out.
In case you were wondering: The second line that wouldn't leave my head is what Aziraphale says to Crowley during their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park in 1862 when Crowley asks him for Holy Water:
A: "I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!"
And here's what bugs me about this: Why did Aziraphale, without a breath of hesitation, immediately assume Crowley wanted the Holy Water to commit suicide if things ever went wrong?
That's ... such a dark assumption to make. Especially because that is absolutely not what Crowley wanted it for, as he literally says himself:
C: "That's not what I want it for, just insurance."
And what does Aziraphale reply?
A: "I'm not an idiot, Crowley!"
Because he firmly, firmly believes that Crowley is asking him to bring him the Holy Water as a foolproof method of taking his own life in case Heaven and Hell ever find out about them.
To this day, that conversation gives me chills whenever I think about it. We so rarely get see what genuine emotions and thoughts for and about Crowley Aziraphale keeps neatly tucked away behind that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his. This moment in 1862 is one of the very rare ones where his façade slips a little – and the peak we get isn't a fun one. It's a very dark, scared and vulnerable one.
What am I on about and how does this all relate to the infamous "You go too fast for me, Crowley"-line? Let's look at it under the cut.
(Word count: 2560 | Reading time: ~10 min. | TW: mentions of suicide)
Like I mentioned up above, it always struck me to my core that Aziraphale very clearly immediately assumes Crowley wants the Holy Water for possible suicide. Not only is that a very dark and upsetting thought, it also poses the question: Why? Why is that the first place Aziraphale's mind goes to?
Crowley says at the very beginning of their conversation:
C: "We have a lot in common, you and me."
He's definitely referring to their (very mutual) relationship Arrangement and the fact that they both find themselves kept apart and watched by their respective head offices, not allowing them to ever misstep and give themselves away.
After bickering around a little like they do, Crowley asks his favour – and he makes it very clear in a quiet and serious voice that:
C: "This is something else. [...] For if it all goes wrong."
He's not just talking about Heaven or Hell finding out about some silly frivolous miracles, no. He's talking about them finding out about their Arrangement, their relationship. The worst of all worst case scenarios.
So bad, in fact, that he doesn't even ask his favour out loud but instead decided to write it down.
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Aziraphale's reaction is ... severe.
We immediately see his face drop as, he too, realizes that this is all of a sudden a very serious conversation indeed. And he immediately and vigorously denies Crowley's request because he thinks it to be one for a suicide pill.
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To understand how he could arrive at that lightning-quick (and also wrong) conclusion, we have to try and understand how Aziraphale sees Crowley and the threat that the angel himself as well as their relationship poses to Crowley.
Crowley can, at times, be a very self-deprecating and cynical character. He's without a doubt carrying a lot of trauma and unspoken fears and emotions with him at all times. Aziraphale at this point in their relationship probably has a good notion of what those are – but he doesn't know the whole depth of it because they've never been able to speak freely enough and Crowley has seemingly decided to keep many-a things to himself, still. They both tread the waters of plausible deniability very well.
So, to jump to the conclusion of Crowley entertaining suicidal thoughts in the face of unavoidable danger is ... quite a violent jump. And remember: "[...] underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times then it was utter surety that the universe would look after him."
So, what is it that Aziraphale does know that would drive him to such a drastic conclusion when, in reality, secret optimist Crowley only ever wanted the Holy Water to protect himself against Hell to come out safe on the other end of things?
2500 BC, Land of Uz: A: "That [going along with Heaven/Hell as far as you can] sounds, um ..." C: "Lonely? Yeah." A: "But you said it wasn‘t." C: "I‘m a demon. I lied."
After Crowley helps Aziraphale out in Edinburgh in 1827, Crowley is immediately sucked back down to Hell We don't know what exactly happened after that or just how long Crowley was gone. We also don't know if Crowley ever told Aziraphale what happened, once he returned. What we and Aziraphale do know, is that Crowley ends up asking him for Holy Water, out of the blue, only a couple of decades later.
1601, The Globe: A: "But if Hell finds out [about the Arrangement], they won't just be angry. They'll destroy you." (additionally, later in time, C: "My lot does not send rude notes.")
Ergo: It's very clear that Aziraphale seems to have put two and two together with his own angel math by what he has a) witnessed himself and b) what Crowley has said himself which equals: In going against Hell, Crowley has felt incredibly lonely before he had Aziraphale by his side and if Heaven and Hell were to ever find out about them, Hell's punishment would be a whole lot worse than Heaven's.
He thinks Hell would destroy Crowley.
So when Crowley, who so rarely says how he really feels and one of the few times he did, told Aziraphale he was lonely, says he wants the Holy Water, the immediate conclusion Aziraphale comes to is: He wants it as an emergency exit. In case things go pear-shaped. He wants it to escape whatever dreadful punishment Hell would have in stock for such a lonely traitor. He wants it as a suicide pill.
For Aziraphale to not even entertain the thought or believe that Crowley does indeed only want the Holy Water as a means of self-defense is, again, absolutely heartbreaking. Because it tells us a thing or two just how scared and desperate Aziraphale thinks Crowley to be. Something along the lines of: "If I myself am already so immensely terrified of Hell's punishment for Crowley, how terrified must Crowley be."
I think a whole lot of this is also very, very strong projection and shows us how Aziraphale himself feels about all of it. How scared he is for himself and Crowley. Of what would be done to them.
A: „Out of the question! Do you know what trouble I'd be in if they knew I‘d been ... fraternizing?“
He knows they would both suffer immense consequences and that Crowley‘s still would be worse. If anything, in a dark and twisted way, it shows that Aziraphale himself has definitely entertained the idea of suicide as a concept, at least. Maybe not for himself or Crowley, yet, but remember, he‘s awfully fond of Shakespeare‘s Hamlet.
A: „To be or not to be? Buck up, Hamlet!“
Yeah, buck up indeed. (By the way, there's a great meta by @greenthena on why Aziraphale likes Hamlet so much that kind of plays into my point a little. You can read it here).
And again, who knows what Aziraphale might have actually witnessed of Hell's cruel ways already in the past (Edinburgh of 1827, or at other times) that made him arrive at the conclusion that, ultimately, suicide would be the less painful choice for Crowley when faced with Hell's consequence for their relationship.
I told you this was gonna take a bit of a darker turn. So, here we are. At the turn. It doesn't get much lighter from here on out, I'm afraid.
Because all of this gives "You go too fast for me, Crowley" a whole new devastating meaning.
Personally, I always found it a teensy bit difficult to relate that line back to Aziraphale implying that Crowley was trying to push their relationship a little too fast for him.
Deducing that as the meaning of "You goo to fast for me" after we were shown in the montage of S1E3 that Aziraphale, from circa 1941 on, was undoubtedly fully aware of just how madly in love he was with Crowley, has always felt odd to me. And it continued to feel even odder after we got the whole story of 1941 in S2.
Because if that minisode showed us anything, it's that if you let Aziraphale take over the metaphorical wheel for about five minutes, "too fast" doesn't even match the astronomical speed with which he crashes head first into 15th base. Forget the hand holding and kissing, let's go straight to you shooting me on the first date I planned for us!
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And they say romance is dead.
Now look, of course, Aziraphale is still keeping most of his romantic feelings and longing bottled up out of fear that Heaven and Hell could find out about them and have Crowley destroyed. We've established that this very big fear of his is the driving factor behind him never trying to overstep that invisible line.
But still, those feelings? They're there. Oh, Hell, they are t-h-e-r-e.
Our angel is a master of self-delusion but not even he is holy enough to deny the fact that, if he could, he'd want nothing more than to lock that demon down and elope together into their happily-ever-after.
So, when Aziraphale finally budges and hands over the Holy Water to Crowley in 1967, I've always had a hard time believing that that line coming from Mr. "I guess there's something to be said for shades of grey" himself actually meant: "I'm not ready yet, you want to go faster than I do."
Because really, apart from trying to convince Aziraphale of the Arrangement and rescuing him from every silly, coincidental predicament the angel has gotten himself into over the millennia, what exactly is it that Crowley did here to "go too fast"? Hell, he's been at it at the pace of a snail ever since, very well knowing that Aziraphale would take a lot of gentle nudging and lunch temptations invitations to agree with the Arrangement.
All Crowley does in that moment in the car is offer Aziraphale a lift, anywhere he wants to go. And yes, that is code their little dance, that is how he shows his love for Aziraphale. But Aziraphale has never before deemed that an issue or seen it as a too-fast progression of their relationship. He even suggests another date himself two seconds later, saying:
A: "Perhaps we could go for a picknick one day. Dine at the Ritz."
So, what, one sentence later he suddenly wants to hit the breaks again? After he literally looked like this the last time Crowley drove (literally way too fast) through burning London?
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Nah, I'm not buying it.
Instead, here's what I think Aziraphale really means with this line that changed us all (and I'm sorry, but I'm about to one-up the sadness of the 1862 meeting):
I think Aziraphale is referring to what he thinks is the reason Crowley wants the Holy Water for.
Suicide.
And boy-fucking-howdy, does that change the game.
Because if we assume that Aziraphale, all throughout the one-century-long Holy Water standoff, thought Crowley wanted it as a quick, ahem, Escape From Everything, what I think Aziraphale really means with "You go too fast for me" is this:
To him, Crowley is asking the most cruel deed of him to bring him the one thing that could take Crowley away from Aziraphale for good. For ever. In case things go pear shaped. In case Hell finds out about them and comes after Crowley.
To Aziraphale, Crowley is asking him to load the bullet into his gun for the time it won't be a trick. So he can escape before Hell gets to him.
More devestatingly, I think Aziraphale even understands where that notion comes from. Aziraphale knows how dangerous their relationship is. And Hell does not send rude notes. So, I think after pondering on it for a good millennia, part of him has come to understand why Crowley would want an emergency exit.
Which is absolutely fucking heartbreaking.
Especially because that's not even what Crowley was thinking when he made his request. He truly only wanted it as a defense. But Aziraphale doesn't believe or fully realize that. Aziraphale believes the Holy Water is a suicide pill and to some extent even understands why Crowley might want that.
And yet, despite (wrongly, but well) understanding Crowley's intentions, Aziraphale is still deeply upset and terrified at the thought of Crowley taking his own life should they ever get caught. Which explains his extreme reaction all the way back at their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park.
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Aziraphale assuming Crowley's way out of the most pear-shaped situation of them all would be suicide also means that Aziraphale would be the one who'd be ... well, left behind.
He recognises that choosing death over possible eternal punishment is maybe somewhat of an understandable choice. And yet, it's a choice that, to him, Crowley has made without him. Seemingly way before their first talk about it.
Aziraphale thinks Crowley seems to have made up his mind about his escape plan without him in it.
He thinks that if they were caught, Crowley would want some Holy Water around to quickly chug before he would be at Hell's mercy and that would be it.
Crowley would, for the first time ever, really leave. Not just for Alpha Centauri. But actually leave. Escape and run away to a point of no return. For good. Without Aziraphale. To a place where Aziraphale couldn't follow him, no matter how fast he tried to run himself.
It goes a little something like:
"If they found out about us, you would choose to go where I couldn't follow. And you're asking me to pave the road for you to walk there. Without me ever being able to get a say in walking alongside you. You want to go to places where I could never join you. You'd run away without me and I understand why but you didn't even give me a chance to catch up. You go too fast for me, Crowley."
F*ck, man. I think I need to lie down.
Y'know what else that gives new meaning to?
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Alright, that's it, I'm out. Enough sad meta-ing for the day. See you all around once I've stopped slipping further into the void, folks. :')
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dopepoisonivyoncrack · 4 months
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Illustration made for The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits It’s a story worth reading for the writing alone if you’re not into Astarion or Bg3
It might not be my best work since I struggled a lot lately but I did something and thought I should share it anyway and let you know how much I love the story and everything you write. You manage to create such beautiful, inspiring scenes, I find myself wanting to draw them all each chapter. It wasn’t easy to choose, so I just went with the last scene (I started this when ch. 9 dropped). I hope it’s not too bothersome that I took some liberties with Tav’s representation, it's not necessarily how I imagine her physical appearance. Ideas that don’t involve much of Tav’s image came after this was done so maybe next time… Traditional art. Watercolors, gouache, colored pencils and ink on A4 paper. Edited in PS. Black & White ver. underline
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elly-sweetheartcrowley · 11 months
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"Are you sure we need rings for this?"
"That's how humans sign arrangements, angel"
"... what kind of arrangements?"
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Ineffable May Day 11: The Arrangement
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2001hz · 1 year
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Kiyoshiro Imawano & Ryuichi Sakamoto for Steady Music Magazine (1982)
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sniickerdoodlies · 3 months
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*Taps microphone*
Hello? I have no idea how posting on tumblr works despite having been on here for very many years.
Is this how you do it? Anyway, this is a little drawing of Tav from the story The Arrangement, written by the amazing @fangswbenefits !
I’ve been wanting to draw her for a while now and this little idea which popped into my head turned out to be a lovely opportunity for some experimentation and practice.
She was an absolute joy to draw, and I encourage everyone to take a look at The Arrangement! It’s seriously such wonderful story, and Ruby is a real gem herself!
Hope I did this correctly.. lol
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fangswbenefits · 4 months
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The Arrangement (10) - A New Way
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Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.
Word count: 7.3k
Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*
Ao3
Series Masterlist
Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 
As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.
Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 
The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 
“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.
You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”
As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 
He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.
“Here.”
You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.
Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 
Your name.
Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.
“Astarion, this is…”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”
There he was.
So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.
A lump in your throat held your words back.
Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.
This was a silent extension of him.
Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.
But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.
A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.
“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”
Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.
“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.
You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.
Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”
Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 
You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”
But the man was insistent as he was drunk.
He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”
The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.
“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”
The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.
But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.
“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.
You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.
Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.
A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.
You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”
And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.
You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.
“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 
“Nothing.”
Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 
He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”
You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”
You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.
There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 
“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”
It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.
He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.
A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.
“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”
He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”
Your heart dropped.
“But…”
“I will embroider you a new one.”
But he never did.
There was no point in lying to Astarion.
You were very well aware of this.
He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.
But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.
This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 
By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 
“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 
Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”
You nodded. “I agree.”
“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”
His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.
“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.
But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.
Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”
Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”
You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.
“I had too much to drink last night.”
Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”
He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”
You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”
Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”
No.
And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.
Ava.
Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.
Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.
“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.
Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”
You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.
“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”
His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”
You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”
Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”
Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.
“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”
As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.
“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”
The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 
Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”
He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.
“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.
Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”
“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”
He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.
He was mad.
No.
He was furious.
Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 
“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”
“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”
Silence
But that was answer enough.
“You should have told me!”
You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”
“How?!”
Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”
His admission stunned you into silence.
It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.
But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.
“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”
He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”
She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 
You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”
She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”
Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”
In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.
Not yet, at least.
At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.
However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.
“I… don’t know yet.”
Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.
“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.
“I know .” he shot back.
She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”
You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.
“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”
You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”
It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.
“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.
Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.
“He would never harm me.”
And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.
“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”
You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”
Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.
“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.
Oh.
“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”
You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”
Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”
“What do you…”
Oh.
“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.
You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.
“Thank you.”
She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”
“So do I.”
It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.
After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”
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And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.
You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.
Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.
So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”
Of course he did.
“Can I come in?”
A brief pause.“Be my guest.”
You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.
As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.
Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.
Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.
A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”
The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”
This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”
Right.
You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.
“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”
“Indeed.”
He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.
If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.
“As for Shadowheart…”
He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”
You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 
Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.
“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”
You nodded.
“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”
Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 
However…
“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”
Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.
The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.
“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”
You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 
“I can deal with her.”
Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.
He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 
“You don’t have to.”
He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”
It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.
There was no need for that.
“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”
Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”
You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”
An unsettling silence took place.
His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.
Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  
“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”
You had no doubt he would.
It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”
“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”
You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.
“That was her first mistake – involving you.”
“I took the deal freely.” you said.
“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”
Fair enough.
“Will you still give her your blood?”
“It depends.”
You blinked. “On what?”
“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”
An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.
Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 
But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?
In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.
His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.
And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.
“You are off limits.”
It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.
A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”
You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”
He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”
Oh, Astarion…
“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”
You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 
“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”
“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”
His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 
Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 
Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.
“I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.
“Come here.”
Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 
Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.
“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.
A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-
“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.
You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.
Your name.
The needlework was impeccable as always.
Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”
He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”
His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.
“May I?”
You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.
Oh.
Fuck.
You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”
It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.
“Where?”
His gaze dropped to your lips.
“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.
“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”
And then he kissed you.
It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.
The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.
Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.
He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.
But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”
You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t. Please .”
He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 
“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.
He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”
Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .
You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.
The latter won by a landslide. 
You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.
“Do you trust me?”
What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”
His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”
“Scream? Why would I-”
Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.
Oh.
Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”
You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.
“Lock the door .”
It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.
Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.
By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.
He was a work of art. 
No words of praise would ever do him justice.
Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”
His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.
Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.
In the end, all roads did lead back to him.
As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.
His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.
He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.
“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”
You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”
He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”
You.
But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.
“Is it Wyll?”
“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”
His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”
You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 
“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 
Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.
Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.
“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”
You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.
It was almost comical how soaked you already were.
You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.
“Would you let him, darling?”
“I–”
But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.
The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.
“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”
You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 
“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.
He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.
“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”
At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.
“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 
He needed to shut up…
You needed him to stop talking before-
He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.
“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”
Gods…
You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.
He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.
Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.
“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”
You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.
“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”
“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.
“Then look down.”
You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.
It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.
You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.
“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.
You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…
The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.
You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 
“What about a third one?”
You didn’t care anymore.
You just wanted release.
It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.
“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”
He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.
You could take it.
You would take it.
The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.
You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.
“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”
“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”
He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”
How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.
You were nearly there.
“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”
Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.
Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.
A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.
Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.
The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.
Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.
Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.
Shit.
You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”
He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.
Oh.
“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.
Oh.
“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”
His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.
And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 
Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.
You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.
“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.
Oh, he was truly holding back…
“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.
This wasn't about you.
He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.
A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 
“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 
This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.
But you knew he needed this.
He needed to feel at ease with his body first.
His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.
You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .
The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.
He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 
Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?
From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?
In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.
It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.
You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 
Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.
A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.
He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.
That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.
Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.
I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.
He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 
Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.
You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.
He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 
Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.
His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.
You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?
For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.
Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.
Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.
“Will you kiss me?”
His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.
Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.
It carried neither urgency nor lust.
Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.
You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.
I love you…
Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.
You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.
I love you.
After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.
“Shadowheart knows.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”
The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 
“I thought you said you were quiet…”
“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”
You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.
He was impossibly handsome.
“You’re so…”
“Charming?”
You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.
“Beautiful?”
Another kiss.
“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.
But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.
“Well…”
You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.
“That’s a lot…” you said.
He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.
And you knew exactly what he meant.
With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.
He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”
Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”
“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”
You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.
The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.
You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.
Shadowheart.
She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.
“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 
“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”
You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”
She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”
An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 
Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 
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TBC
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takeme-totheworld · 3 months
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Hot take: The more I think about it, the more Crowley getting dragged to Hell at the end of the Edinburgh episode feels like a retcon that shouldn’t have been included in the story. Because the entire justification for the arrangement in S1 is that they are able to get away with this for centuries because neither of them is actually being observed that closely. And in Crowley’s case specifically, this is backed up by multiple examples of him taking credit for things he didn’t do in order to curry favor with the higher-ups in Hell. The Spanish Inquisition. The Reign of Terror. World War II. And he is able to get away with this as well because, in his own words, “They never check.”
But that one scene was included in S2 and now it’s become fanon that Hell has Crowley under constant close surveillance and drags him back to Hell to be tortured every time he puts a toe out of line. (And I’m in no way immune to this, I’ve included it in my own fanfics.) But like…there is genuinely no way the arrangement could have gone on undiscovered for hundreds and hundreds of years if that were really happening.
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egooppidum · 3 months
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Tav (Liv) x Astarion from "The Arrangement" by @fangswbenefits (love you ❤️)
Full version here: X
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gurugirl · 1 year
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https://www.tumblr.com/gurugirl/717253767497695232/loving-with-all-these-ideas-in-from-the-asks-l-im?source=share
imagine the surprise on jessica or another coworker's face if they saw them out or her coming to see him at the office and he is being all over her, i know he would go manic if anyone gave even the lightest judgemental look to her but he also would bring it up to her after when they are alone "such a little slut uh, acting all shy and cute around everyone but still fucked a married man without thinking twice and got all those gifts, my little whore..."
okay just gonna write this real quick...
**This is a little blurb to go with The Arrangement**
Took 30 minutes to write this 😬 Apologies for the lack of editing and proofreading. I should be doing other things but felt inspired? lol! Hope you enjoy :)
1905 words
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, DDlg, degradation, slight exhibitionism
Y/n didn’t have a class that day so she spent part of her morning lounging in her silk pajamas, sipping on cold brew coffee, and working ahead on an assignment due on Friday. But she had the idea that she’d go and visit Harry at the office. Plus it’d be fun to see everyone again.
After taking a shower and picking out a cute outfit from their walk-in closet she called a taxi to take her downtown. She sent a quick text once she was on her way.
Headed to the office. See you soon xxx
She figured she’d meet him for lunch. Maybe he could get out of the building for a bit.
Harry was in a meeting when she texted him but he saw her note and smiled to himself. He didn’t need to worry about anything. He and his wife were done. Sean sold him his part of the company and shares so he wasn’t around. And if anyone even so much as dared look at Y/n with any kind of contempt he’d set the record straight. There were already whispers of his new relationship with Y/n. What Sean had done with his wife. The divorce Harry was in the middle of.
When she stepped into the front of the office the office receptionist jumped from her seat and greeted Y/n with a warm smile, “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Nothing to drink for me. I can wait out front until Harry’s done with his meeting,” she said as she gestured toward the sitting area.
“Nonsense. I’ll bring you to Mr. Styles’ office to wait there. It’s a nicer view anyway. I’m sure he’d prefer you there.”
Following the receptionist toward Harry’s office Y/n was stopped by Jessica, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”
Harry stepped out of the meeting just as Jessica and Y/n were speaking.
“Oh! Hi! I’m just here to say hi to everyone. Wanted to see Harry real quick. How have you been?”
Y/n really wanted to get the attention off of herself. She realized most people knew that she and Harry were a bit of a thing at this point. But she still felt shy about being so open with it.
“I’m well. So you’re here to see Harry, huh? How’s that going?”
Y/n looked down at her expensive shoes and then shrugged before looking back at Jessica, “It’s good. Yeah.” She smiled shyly.
Harry walked up behind them at that and grabbed Y/n’s hand and gently pulled at her, “Hi darling. Come with me to my office?” He looked at Y/n as he spoke before turning to speak to Jessica, “You don’t mind if I pull her away for a bit do you?”
“Not at all. Nice to see you, Y/n.”
The moment Harry had his office door closed and locked he grabbed his little girl by her hip and pulled her into him, “What are you doing here?” He put his hands into her hair gently running his finger through it.
“Just wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could get you out of the office for a little lunch,” she smiled sweetly.
“Oh, it’s food you want? Interesting…” he continued with his fingers in her hair, “Thought you came here to show off. Let everyone know who you belong to now.”
“Harry…” she spoke softly, “that’s not why I’m here. I just-“
“Looking so cute and innocent in front of everyone. Showing off all the gifts I’ve bought you,” he nudged at her ear with his thumb over the Cartier diamond earrings he’d bought her, “It’s because you want everyone to know you’re Daddy’s little slut. Isn’t that right?”
“I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” she grasped his hand and moved it up to her lips so she could kiss his fingers, “I just missed you a little today. Thought it would be fun to see you,” she spoke between kisses as she kept her eyes on him.
“Just wanted to see me… Well, here I am. And I’ve already eaten lunch. It’s 2 pm, little girl. I have a feeling you came here for a different kind of fun.”
She smirked and then lowered her gaze to his lips as she dropped his hand and put her arms over his shoulders, “Just missed you, Daddy.”
Harry grinned and gave in to kiss her lips finally. She tasted sweet and smelled delicious. And her cute new dress fit her perfectly. Harry held her out in his arms and looked down over her outfit, “I do have good taste, don’t I?”
Y/n nodded and giggled as she looked down over her dress. She hadn’t worn this one yet. It was a little short and her heels were a little high. She’d also purposely put on a skimpy thong in hopes of him pushing it to the side and touching her or fucking her even.
“You really have everyone fooled, you naughty girl. They think you’re so sweet and shy but really, you had an arrangement with a filthy rich married man who gave you his credit card and then you stole him from his wife and now look at you,” he put his hand around her throat and pushed her back toward the couch in his office, “Shacked up with me, taking all my money, getting fucked every night, and pampered to your heart's content. You’re not innocent.”
Her blood rushed to her extremities and her head began to feel light and floaty like she usually did around him. Her pussy clenched and she moaned at his words and how he squeezed her neck softly.
“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch behind her as he let go of her neck.
She complied, holding the bottom hem of her dress as she put her bottom onto the soft cushion.
Harry sat next to her and leaned back into the couch, “Undo my pants.” He said but when she hesitated he continued, “Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m a busy man, Y/n.”
She turned her body toward him and began to undo his pants. Harry brought a hand to her chin and grasped it to move her face to look up at him, “Haven’t got time for pleasantries. I’ve got a meeting in,” he lifted his wrist and looked at his expensive watch, “25 minutes.”
Y/n nodded as she unzipped his pants and sat back to wait for his next instructions, “Bend over the arm of the couch, put your pussy on the corner there so you can rub your clit while I fuck you.”
Quickly she got up and draped her body over the arm of the couch, placing herself at the edge where she could get enough friction from the couch. But truly, she didn’t care if she came or not. She was only there to please him. To let him come and get off.
Harry lifted her dress up as he pulled himself out of his briefs and tsk’d at her, “Desperately wet already. Just as I suspected. You’re going to make a mess of my couch, aren’t you?”
Y/n turned her head to look at Harry as he hooked a finger into the flimsy material and pulled it to the side so he could look at her pussy, “I’m always wet for you, Daddy,” she spoke quietly with rounded eyes.
Harry grinned and nodded, “I know you are baby.”
Harry braced himself with one arm on the back of the couch as he pushed himself into her. They both gasped at the delicious feeling of being connected. Two bodies as one. Moving together, breathing one another in, deeply attached and intrinsically joined.
When he’d dipped in as far as his balls would allow Y/n let out a groan that was too loud so Harry used his free hand to cover her mouth as he continued to rail into her, “Shhh… thought you wanted to keep up the appearance of being innocent. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what kind of whore you are, getting fucked on the couch in my office right next to the break room. Anyone in there could have heard you. Is that what you want?” Harry panted his words as he worked himself into her, the couch began to lightly bang into the wall at his thrusts, “You want people to hear how good I give it to you? How hard I make you come?”
Y/n’s eyes were rolled into the back of her head. She was happy to be a hole for him to come in but his cock always felt so good inside of her. And the cloth of the arm of the couch pressed into her pelvis and clit just right. She was glad his hand was over her mouth because he was driving into her deeply and each time he bottomed out she grunted into his hand unintentionally.
Harry spoke quietly into her ear as he continued fucking her, his balls whacking into her flesh, the obscene sound of wet pussy being fucked and skin colliding in repeated cadence in time with the couch hitting the wall, “I bet they all have their ears pressed to the door right now. They can all hear you little pussy getting fucked hard. That’s what you wanted, Y/n? Wanted to show off how good your cunt gets pounded?”
Her gurgles were muffled and Harry’s palm was wet with her saliva. He could tell she was drooling. He could see how red her face was and that she had goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes were fluttering. She was about to come. Which was good because so was he and he had to get going. His guests would be meeting with him in his office and he knew there would be a bit of cleanup involved.
“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock again? Didn’t you just come on his cock this morning, baby? Fffuck, my little girl is so needy. Needs Daddy’s come inside of her, doesn’t she? Poor thing. Wants to get knocked up and keep me forever doesn’t she?”
Y/n moaned and her walls clenched Harry’s cock as her orgasm took over. Her limbs stiffened and she grasped onto the material of the couch. Yes. She wanted all of that. If she could keep him forever, make him give her babies, and then he’d have to keep her.
Harry hissed at how tight her pussy gripped him but he continued his thrusts until he began spurting into her, punching into her deeply so his come could coat her and fill her insides.
Y/n opened her eyes when Harry released his hand from over her mouth and put her panties back into place. He helped her up and kept her in his arms, kissing her temple, “Okay to walk out of here like you are? Or do need a minute?”
She gulped and wiped under her eyes with one hand as she clutched onto Harry’s arm with her other, “I just need to wipe my face and calm myself a little.”
“Whatever you need. I have a mirror behind the cabinet door if you need it.”
Y/n straightened herself out and waved her hands over her face to cool down a bit as Harry wiped up the couch and then got his laptop ready for the meeting.
“Okay. I’m good now,” she smiled as she picked up her purse from the coffee table.
Harry kissed her forehead, “See you tonight at home at 7.”
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ferg0s · 9 months
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ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ
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ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ + ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ.
ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪᴍᴀ ꜱʜɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ, ᴀᴏᴍɪɴᴇ ᴅᴀɪᴋɪ, (ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʟᴏʟ)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʀᴏᴄᴋʏ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ, ʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰᴏᴜʀ
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Thud... thud.. thud. 
You could hear the melodic thumping of Aomines heart as your head lay on his chest. Though he wouldn't admit it, you knew that he was terrified. Being in the friend's bed, drinking his expensive wine and not to mention with his wife. You could hear his heart rate speed up at the slightest sound. The branches from a tree hitting your window, the slighestcreek from the bed. You knew why, though. Midorima could come back any minute. Could. You knew he was spending the night with Mei. You'd get a text from him after his work events, the ones you sat out - 'done'- and you'd faintly hear the front door open through your closed bedroom door - always 30 minutes after he initially texted, even though the drive from your house to his work is 15 minutes - and Midorima would walk in with takeout - from the specific place you loved located in the shady part of town, the one that you would come across if you took the backroads home - and you'd both eat it together as Midorima recapped the night for you. The drive from his work, to the restaurant, to back home was 30 minutes. On the dot. Every time, like clockwork. So much so that you stopped counting down the minutes until he arrived home because you knew he would. 
You couldn't help but stare at your phone. It lay facing up, the screen as black as the dark hours of the night, alone on the side table next to Aomine. Some of you wished to see the screen light up; you knew you could make out Midorimas name even from the distance you were at. You longed for that adrenaline surge from kicking Aomine out, cleaning up the mess from the scattered clothes and ruffled sheets. Rushing him out of the house - through the backdoor or window? You could care less - and waiting for Midorima to come up to the room and see him go about his night without suspecting anything. Because despite the anxiety, stress and general panic of having to clean up after your little hookup - at least Midorima would be home. He would first walk in the door quietly to not wake you up, and when he would realize you were awake, he would flash you a smile and plop down next to you. He wouldn't care about the ironing of his suit, how the material lost its softness against the sheets' fabric. He would lay next to you, head on your lap and feel the stress leave his body as your fingers massaged his scalp. 
Your phone screen remained black. Untouched. The chances were close to zero but never zero. And the longer it stayed black, the closer the chances got to zero - but still, it never approached it. 
You wondered if he thought the same. Would he look at Mei and feel about you? Would he secretly criticize Mei for not doing things like you did - like how you couldn't help but frown when aomine didn't adjust the pillow under your neck to support your head because Midorima always did that - a part of you hoped that he did. A part of you hoped that he didn't. It was conflicting. Wanting to be remembered but forgotten. You wanted him to not forget you, to remember your history together, to remember how good you were to him. But the thought of him thinking about your well-being while fucking another girl made you sick. He didn't care about you or your marriage - why would he care about you while his arms were tangled around another woman? 
"You hungry?" 
Your head turned up to see Aomine. "Hmm?" 
You knew deep down at Aomine regretted coming here. His silence after the fact would be the biggest reason. The Aomine you knew would be chatting up a storm, cracking jokes about vulgar topics you could only imagine. You knew the disinterest in your eyes indicated that you were just as pleased to have him at the moment as he was to be there. You felt him sit up, the sheets ruffling at his movement. You sat up, the comforter falling off you and exposing your chest. You looked down and saw a singular hickey. Small. Midorima gave you bigger ones. But Midorima was your husband, not some booty call. Seeing it made you sick as if bringing you back to Earth with the gravity of your actions. "No." You answered blatantly. 
All you could do as Aomine got up and left the room was criticize. Midorima would have never taken no for an answer; he would have brought you an extra serving along with himself. Midorima would have given you a glass of water already. Midorima would have-
"Hey, let's go outside." 
You turned your head to the doorway and looked at Aomine. His boxers hanging loosely around his waist. You could tell by his -now - casual nature that even he knew Midorima wouldn't return tonight. 
He flashed a smile at you. "You look like someone ran over your dog," he joked. "Let's get some fresh air,"
Aomines words caught you by surprise.
Despite everything Midorima did after you two finished; getting water, food, fresh clothes - he never cared to see how you felt. How much of a frown you had on your face when he would bring you food after you explicitly told him you weren't hungry. Or how the water would always be room temperature when you told him you liked cold water. How the clothes he would get you weren't comfortable at all. 
You liked the thought of Midorima. The idea of him. The idea of a perfect husband who cared. The heartache of losing him covered the heartaches of having him around. Of how you would eat cold takeout at night, even though you told him it would be better for you to come with him to get it another time so the food would be warm because the restaurant was on the way back from work and it was a quick and easy apology for coming home late. You didn't have the heart to tell him that he got your order wrong each time - but as you looked back at it, you realized he never asked you. He picked the most popular item on the menu. It was sheer coincidence that you just so happened to like that item. But then again, if it was the popular item, who doesn't?
You took a deep breath and smiled for the first time that night. 
"I would love to."
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mb for disappearing yall. lifes been crazy lol
sjould i just post this to ao3?
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